Anthem Of The Angels
by CrayonDreamer
Summary: When Sam is shot, and Cas finds he cannot heal him, he brings the boys to Leo and the Halliwells. This brings the question; Who is draining heaven? Who/Whatever it is, together they're going to kill it, because no angel mojo is just a pain in the ass.
1. Blended

**A/N: I realized I haven't attempted a multi-chapter story in a long time. I kept telling myself for a while that I just couldn't do it anymore. Them's fightin' words, past me. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.**

**Forgive me if I make any mistake in any of the Charmed parts. I've watched it with my friends, but I have yet to actually watch it all the way through, like I have with Supernatural. I'm going to get one of my friends to help me out with what I'm missing, but until then, bear with me.**

**Here goes nothing.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The _thunderous crack _peirced her ears drums, shocking her from her vivid dream. Pheobe Halliwell shot up in bed, gasping for air. Taking a moment to calm down and remember where she was, Pheobe shook her head and carefully slipped out of bed. Quickly menouvering down the creaky stairwell, she tiptoed into the kitchen. The time on the stove read 2:46am, much to her chargin.

As a psychic, Pheobe had long ago grown accustomed to her visions, but this one... it was just bizzare. It wasn't that she had never met that guy before, which she hadn't, it was just so completely vivid, like she was there at that second. A chill ran down her spine. Knowing sleep would now evade her, she set herself to making some herbal tea to help knock her out.

Cutting off the stove under the kettle just before it whistled, Pheobe began pouring the water into her mug- only to let it crash to the floor when the flutter of wings caused her heart to leap out of her chest. She gasped sharply, now face to face with a man with short, messy black hair and a tan trench coat, staring at her coldly.

"I need to speak with Leo." He stated, in a gravely voice.

Before she could say a word, the familiar glow of a whitelighter appeared beside the man, slowly forming the figure of the Halliwell guardian, and her brother-in-law. Leo looked at the man with no attempt to hide his surprise. "Castiel?"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

God friggin dammit. They would never catch a break would they?

It had been a relatively normal day, driving across a few states to get back to Bobby's. They had been on a hunt jujst outside of Sacramento, and were heading back to South Dakota for some much needed R&R. Sam and Dean drove in the Impala, while Bobby trailed in his pick-up, all quiet and peacefull on the front. But now, here they were, tricked into stopping to help some poor bastard whose car was broken down on the side of the road. After Dean and Bobby fixed it up, the man and thanked them, and offered to buy them a beer at the local bar. Taking him up on his offer, figuring they'd just stay at a motel after, they followed him through a dirt road in the woods, only to end up at a dead end. The man had then gotten out of his car, taken a gun out, and ordered them to get out as well.

He was smart about it too, telling them to place any weapons they had on the ground, and firing a warning shot when they tried to pull them out on him, then leading them further into the woods and away from the cars and weapons. Dean would never let himself live down the fact that he had been so easily duped. And duped by a "hunter" no less.

Gregory Serick, a hunter for 10+ years, and a good friend of non other than a hunter named Gordon- make that former hunter. They should have assumed that Gordon had spread the word about his "Sam Winchester Must Die" campain before he went vamp, and this was exactly why. Serick had made it his mission in life ever since Gordon's death to find Sam Winchester and kill him, bringing "world order" as he liked to justify it.

"Alright, we get it, you're upset about Gordon, just put the gun down." Dean said slowly yet strongly, taking a cautious step forward.

Greg cocked his gun, the safety clicking, echoing into the empty night. "I said not another step!" He shouted, keeping the nozzle of his gun pointed at the youngest Winchester.

Dean retracted his step, raising his hands to show no harm. But this wasn't giving up, no, this was rethinking a plan. Gregory was a hunter, there was no way that any routine manover would work on him, so what other choices were left? Talking wasn't his strongest point but... "Okay, okay, you have the control here man. Just think about what you are doing here."

A wild fire glazed over his beady eyes. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm putting this monster in it's place!" He proclaimed, spuing madness.

"Take it easy!" Dean commanded. His eyes connected for a moment with his brother's, the sight enough to break him. Sam's eyes were enough to tell every emotion raging in his mind, all summed up in a storm of fear and disbeleif. Why was he always called a monster? He had done nothing wrong, was only the unwilling pawn in another's cruel game. Innocence that Dean didn't know still existed in Sam surfaced on his face, anxiety rolling off of him with every heavy breath he took. For once, Sam was scared, after everything they faced this is what scared him; an insane human with a vendeta and a gun. He gave Dean a pleading, appologetic tilt of the head before turning his attention to the barrel pointing at his chest.

But all of that took place in a single moment, and that was all it took for Greg to snap. Without so much as a word, he pulled the trigger, releasing a _thunderous crack_ to fill the air, followed by an agonizing scream from Sam. Thrown back from the force, he collapsed to the ground, blinding pain overtaking every nerve in his body. It hurt so much more than it should...

"Sam!" Dean shouted, dashing in a futile attempt to catch him. Letting Bobby run after Greg, he skidded to his knees beside where Sam and fallen on his side, curled into himself. Dean rolled him onto his back, using both hands to pry Sam's arms away from the scarlet stain on his shirt. "Shit, Sammy! Sam, look at me, alright? You keep your eyes on me, right here." He ordered as he began shedding his jacket from his shoulders. He pressed the fabric to his brother's abdoment, where blood leaked out with no mercy. "You're alright, got that? You're going to be fine, Sam. Just fine. I'm gonna take care of you. Sam? Sammy!" He called out desperately. Sam's eyes had a glazed look to them as he stared up past Dean's panic striken face; it scared the shit out of him.

Neither noticed Bobby running out of the woods and landing on the unoccupied side of the fallen brother. "Shit, he's gone into shock." He cursed. "Dean, let me take over there, you need to bring him out of it, he'll respond better to you."

Dean nodded numbly, not releasing pressure on the jacket until Bobby had it firmly in his hands. He then shifted himself clumsilty in his haste so that he could lean over and place his hands on Sam's cheeks. "Hey, hey, hey, come on, look at me Sammy. You have to focus, alright? Focus right here, right on your big brother." His voice trembling, he wiped the hair from Sam's face, keeping his palm on his forehead. "Sam? Sam, you've gotta work with me here man, show me you're with us."

After a moment in which his heart stopped in waiting, Sam groaned, his eyes blinking rapidly before squeezing shut, his teeth clenching. "D'n..." He muttered.

"That's it Sammy, I'm right here." He forced a smile in an effort to put of a facade of bravery. But the facade shattered when Sam let out a cry of pain, his body lurching under the pressure on the wound. Dean cried out into the night, calling the heavens to hear him. "Castiel!" His voice broke. "Cas, get your ass down here!" He shouted desperately. The flutter of wings was brought to his ears, drawing his eyes up from his brother to where the renegade angel now stood, just a few feet away.

At first, his face remained stoic, as it usually was, but at the sight of his friends huddled around Sam, his eyebrows drew together. He walked with a quick step to them, movements fluid with the grace he posesed as an angel. He kneeled beside Dean. "What happened ?" He asked, voice gruff.

"He was shot, now save him!" Dean barked.

Castiel nodded, reaching out to touch Sam's forehead with two fingers in blind confidence that he could fix anything. He paused, retracting his hand with a frown, worry leaking slightly over his face.

"Cas, what are you doing? Heal him, now!" Dean demanded.

"I cannot heal him..." Castiel mused.

"What the hell do you mean-"

"Something more is going on here, Dean." Castiel stated firmly, turning toward the eldest Winchester. "I do not have the ability to heal him. But I know some people who might be able to help. I will go ahead and find them, get Sam in your car and start driving south. Hurry." The sound of wings flapping away was heard, only this time in a quicker and more purposeful pace.

Dean cursed under his breath, before he scooped up his sasquatch of a brother into his arms and began the treck back through the woods. He went as fast as he could without jostling his brother, although sometimes it could be helped, earning a sharp his from the bleeding man. Seeing the Impala through the treeline was a godsent. Bobby ran ahead, opening the door so Dean could deposit Sam onto the backseat. Dean reached into his pockets and tossed Bobby the keys without hesitation, as he jumped in the back with Sam.

The car roared to life, jolted forward, and Bobby navigated his way south. Dean sat pressed up against the door to give his brother more room, Sam's head on his lap, while he kept one hand running through his long brown hair in comfort, and one hand keeping pressure on the jacket. "Keep him talking." Bobby urged, glancing at the brothers from the rear-view mirror.

Dean nodded. "You hangin' there Sam?" He asked, his voice projecting to keep Sam's attention.

"Mhm." Sam mumbled.

Dean rubbed his thumb over Sam's forehead in soothing circles. "Alright, just hold on, okay? We're going to get you all fixed up, nothing to worry about. Hey, as long as I'm around, nothing bad's gonna happen to you, right?"

Sam gave a breathy laugh, his eyes still shut."Y'used to say th't all th'time."

Dean smiled despite himself. "Damn right, Sammy. Now, uh, what do you want to eat once you're good as new? Because until then, we're goin to have to put all of your food in a blender."

"D'n." Sammy slipped a weak grin through his laboured breaths.

"Oh, I mean it. We'll even give you a swirlly straw. How does burger, milkshake and fries all smushed together sound?"

"J'rk." 

"Bitch."

Sam laughed for a moment before his face was overtaken by a grimace. "D'n, th'rs s'omthing else n'the bull't. S'spreading cold 'nd-" He was cut off by a sharp, shrill scream, his body lurching on the seat, before curling in on itself, his face contorted tighter than before.

"Sam?" Dean shouted in worry. "S'okay Sammy, you're fine." His eyes shot to the rear view mirror. "Bobby, drive faster." He commanded, panic flooding his tone.

"We don't even know where we're going Dean, I'm trying." Bobby said firmly, gripping the stearing wheel so tightly his kuckles had long since turned white.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Feet moved quickly on the floor above them, rushing to see what was going on. Piper and Paige raced down the stairwell in their night clothes, half ready for a fight, half asleep. What served to wake them up was the strange man standing in the kitchen, with an unreadable expression on his face as he gazed up at Leo, who looked at him in surprise.

"What's going on down here?" Paige asked, lack of sleep present in her voice.

"I-I don't know..." Leo admitted.

"Okay..." Piper sighed, walking to stand beside her husband. "And who may I ask are you?" She asked as folded her arms.

"My name is Castiel, I am an angel of the Lord." He stated, rehersed.

"Another whitelighter?" Paige asked, glancing at Leo.

Leo shook his head. "No, he's an actual angel. But, Castiel, what are you doing here?"

Turning his full attention back to Leo, Castiel paused, before answering. "A friend of mine as been mortally wounded, and I've found myself unable to heal him. Something is draining my power,. I need to ask for your help, brother." He said earnestly.

"Of course, Castiel. I owe you that much." Leo nodded. With a simple nod of acknowledgement, Castiel disapeared with the flapping of wings and a gust of wind that passed so quickly, you'd have missed it if you blinked. The three sisters looked around in confusion, before turning back to their protector. "He does that." Leo sighed.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

With all the tension in the car, accompanied by Sam's frequent cries of pain, no one paid any surprise to the sudden appearance of Cas in the passanger seat. In his hands, he held an address scribbled on a scrap peice of paper. "1329 Prescott Street, San Fransisco. Take us there. We're not far." He said, handing the paper to Bobby. Castiel sat completely stiff in his seat, staring out the front window, with the same distant look he always had plastered on his face. But he couldn't ignore Sam's wimpers and cries, he hesitantly glanced at the back seat. "How is he fairing?" He asked, ever socially awkward.

"Peachy, what does it look like, Cas?" Dean spat on behalf of his little brother, whose head he cradled in his lap.

Cas frowned, averting his gaze for a moment. "...I'm sorry I couldn't heal him, Dean."

Dean huffed. "I know. It's not your fault Cas."

Satisfied that Dean understood, he turned around, and focused his eyes on the road once again. Soon enough, the San Fransisco skyline came into view, and Dean felt just a little bit hopeful, a smile blooking on his face. "See that Sammy, we're almost there, just a little longer and we'll get you all fixed up." He grinned falsely down at him, only to let the mask drop when he saw Sam's eyes closed. "Sam?" He called, tapping the side of his face with the hand that wasn't putting pressure on the wound. His heart dropped when Sam didn't respond. "Sam? _Sammy_!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Aannnddd I think I'll leave it there. I haven't attempted a multi-chapter story in a while, and I miss leaving readers with cliffhangers. Ah, the torture, it's delicious. **


	2. My Name Is

**A/N: Man, this thing is really starting to flow! Me Gusta.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The car slammed to a screetching stop, and for once, the damage to the breaks on his baby were the last thing on his mind. Before the car had even shut down, Dean practicaly kicked the car door open and carefully lifted Sam's dead weight into his arms. He crawled out of the car before Bobby and Castiel had even opened their doors, walking up the pathway to a quaint house in the suburbs of San Fransisco. The front door was already open, white light cascading onto the yard, and enabling Dean to make it up the stairs, Cas and Bobby following. He muttered comforts to his brother under his breath, even though he knew Sam couldn't hear.

Inside, four people were waiting. Three women and a man let him in without hesitation, all immediatly swarming, but in a none evasive way, to check the damage. "Oooh god, okay, let's him him upstairs, come on." The oldest woman said, taking charge in a way that Dean was strangely grateful for. She quickly led him up a narrow flight of stairs and down a short hallway to a room that looked like it had just been prepared for them; Dean didn't dare question it, was only, once again, grateful. He gently set Sam's unconsious body down on the fresh linen of the bed.

The man and two other women had apparently followed with Castiel and Bobby on their trails. Upon arriving in the small room, they had all began talking in hurried tones, but Dean didn't care to listen, only focusing on re-applying pressure on the still bleeding wound. At some point, he noticed that one of the women suggested that the room was too crowded and that only those who needed to be there stay. Bobby had looked like he wanted to protest, but Cas had put a hand on his shoulder and guided him out, two of the women following. This left only himself, the man, the oldest woman, and of course Sam.

When a strong but petite hand suddenly touched his shoulder, Dean jumped, his head whipping around to see who it was. The oldest woman stared up at him with reassuring eyes. "What are your names?" She asked, her voice calm.

"D-Dean." He stuttered before swallowing hard and gaining his bearings. "That's my brother, Sam."

She nodded. "Alright Dean. My name is Piper. This is my husband Leo. He can heal Sam, alright?"

Dean nodded. "Okay."

Leo gave a pointed, reassuring glance to Dean, before walking to the other side of the bed. He stretched his hand out and let it hover over the bullet wound. A gentle white light began to glow off his skin, but it was dim. Leo's eye brows drew together in confusion, a look that Dean caught, and didn't like. "What?" He asked, his voice raising as it always did in panic.

Leo licked his lips before drawing his hand back hesitantly. "There's something wrong here..." He muttered, sharing a glance with Piper.

Dean kneeled down by the edge of the bed, his head bowing into ready hands, gripping at his hair in frustration. "Man, if I hear that one more time-"

"Wait." Leo said, running to the door to shout out into the house. "Paige! Come up here!" No sooner had he finished shouting, bright orbs of light appeared in the room, forming into the shape of the girl Dean assumed was Paige. "Paige, I can't heal him alone, my powers are... I don't know, but we'll need two whitelighters to make any progress." Leo explained. Paige nodded with a quick "Okay", and joined Leo at Sam's side. They both held their hands out, and began to glow again. A flash of surprise flashed across Paige's face when she too saw that her light was dim, but she quickly shook it off and focused what energy she had on healing the boy.

It seemed like hours before they pulled their hands away, and in that moment, Dean knew they'd given up. Sam was gone; his little brother was dead. The thoughts echoed in a hollow mind, which is exactly what he felt like, completely hollow as he stared down at Sammy's all too peacefull face. There was a needle slowly peircing through the emptyness, begging him to wake up, to turn back time and fix his mistakes, pleading to not let this be real.

Leo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared down at Sam. "We managed to stop the bleeding, but we don't have enough juice to fully heal him for some reason. The rest is up to him now." He stated.

Dean's head shot up with disbeleiving eyes. "He's alive?"

"Yeah." Paige answered. "But he's in for one hell of a fight." She walked around the bed, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder with a squeeze, before walking about of the room and back downstairs. Leo and Piper did the same, soon disapearing around the corner. Dean found himself frozen in his place kneeling on the floor, staring after them, before his eyes snapped back to Sam. He exhaled, and took in sweet, sweet air for what felt like the first time in a very long time.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It was 10:00am before Dean came down from Sam's room. They'd gotten there around four that morning, and Dean had fallen right asleep on the chair by Sam's bed after Leo and Paige had stopped the bleeding. It was a long night, and no one blamed him for dragging his feet downstairs and almost collapsing onto a stool in the kitchen. Pheobe watched him out of the corner of her eyes, studying his features. Catching her sister's eye, Paige frowned, tapping her on the shoulder. "What's up?" She whispered.

Pheobe glanced behind her to make sure Dean wasn't catching onto their conversation, then answered. "I had a vision of seeing that Sam guy get shot last night."

"Well, that usually happens when you're psychic Pheobe." Paige teased.

Pheobe rolled her eyes. "But I didn't touch anything to trigger it! That, like, _never_ happens, unless it's really important, but we've never even met these guys..."

Paige sighed. "You've got a good point there." She glanced at Dean over her shoulder, wondering why they seemed to be so important.

Dean rubbed his hands over his eyes in an attempt to wake himself, only to remove it and find a hot plate of food on the counter in front of him. He looked up to see Piper gesturing to the food with her wooden spoon.

"Eat." She ordered, leaving no room for arguement.

Dean of course had no complaints there. "Thanks. Looks pretty damn good." He grinned before digging his fork into the breakfast potatoes. He paused before putting the food in his mouth, lowering his hand. "I never got to thank you for what you all did. Thank you, really." He said earnestly.

"Don't worry about it." Paige smiled as she sat down across from him. "Oh, and your friends told me to tell you they were picking up Bobby's truck, and they'd be back in a couple hours." She added.

Dean flashed her a winning smile before taking a few more bites. "So, what's your story? I mean, you're obviously in it with the angels, or what did you call yourselves again?" He asked.

"Whitelighters." Paige answered. She opened her mouth to answer his other question, but stopped herself, looking at her sisters for the go ahead. Piper and Pheobe shrugged. "And since you also seem to have a few connections, I guess it's safe to say that we're... witches."

Dean choked on his bacon, pounding his fist on his chest to get himself breathing again. "Witches? _You_ are witches?" He asked incredulously, suddenly feeling very uneasy.

"You say that like you've met some before." Pheobe said, leaning against the counter with her arms folded.

"Have." He answered quickly, not in the mood for chat anymore. "Not exactly pleasant."

Piper groaned before turning the burner off on the stove. "I see where this is going." She said, joining her family at the counter. "Not all witches are evil, Dean. The ones that are are just more out in the open about it and easier to find."

Dean assessed everyone in the room with him. Three witches, and 'whitelighter' or whatever. They invited him into their home, healed Sam, and have done nothing but help; it could be a trap. But on the otherhand, Castiel seemed to trust them. He let his tense muscles relax, though he kept his guard up just in case. Call it paranoia. "Alright, fine." He said.

"You're turn." Paige smiled pointedly.

Dean licked his lips, debating for a moment on how much to tell them. "My brother and I are Hunters. Bobby too. Anything evil and supernatural, we gank it. Castiel's a good friend." He answered, figuring he could leave out the messy details.

"Okay, fair enough." Piper chiped. "Now, who wants to help with clean up duty?"

Dean hated doing the dishes. When he was little, he'd always trick Sam into doing them for him. But since these people had saved Sam, he figured he'd suck it up. He had just been about to take his own empty plate to the sink when the lights in the entire house began to flicker simultaniously, and violently. He looked around wildly, searching for any kind of threat on instinct. Then all at once, he stopped, stock still, when he felt a presence next to him. That's when he knew something otherworldly was going on. Fearing the worst, he turned on his heal and raced out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into Sam's room.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Dean! Dean, come one man!" Sam shouted, becoming more and more desperate by the second. He had woken up in a strange room, an attic he assumed, that was filled with gemstones, herbs and numerous other magical tools. After the initial freak out, he left the room, and found himself in a foriegn, unfamiliar house. Careful not to make any noise, just in case, he had made his way downstairs, finding Dean sitting in the kitchen, talking to four complete strangers. At first, he was releived to see his brother, but when he called out to him, he didn't answer, and panic settled in. That's about where he was now, standing beside him, tryin to catch hius attention."Dean, what's going on!"

"It's no use." A feminine voice said from behind him. Sam whirled around, expecting a fight, only to find a woman standing in the doorway. Her skin was pale, and her hair was dark and wavy; undoubtably beautiful.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"He can't hear you. He can't see you." The woman said slowly, taking patient steps toward him. "Sam, right?"

Sam took a step back, not letting her get any closer. "Yeah..."

She smiled sadly. "Listen Sam, and try to understand this. You are having what is called an out of body experience. You are just a spirit wandering around." She explained.

Sam suddenly felt it, the incomplete feeling that had been nagging at him since he woke up, hit him in full force. "A-Am I... dead?" He asked in a panicing tone. As the fear of that notion began to course through his unfeeling body, the lights above him began to flicker violently, causing him to jump and look around in confusion. Dean and the others also seemed startled by this, because after the initial shock, Dean was racing up the stairs. Sam turned back to the woman. "What's going on?" He demanded.

Seemingly just as startled, the woman gazed back at him, studying him. "You're doing this..." She said.

"Like a ghost or something?" Sam chocked. She didn't answer him, only continued studying him, making him feel nervous and infuriated under her stare. "Answer me! Am I dead?" He shouted.

The woman averted her eyes for a moment, glancing back up at him with an out stretched hand, beconing him to follow as she began to walk back towards the stair case. Sam followed numbly as she led him to the second floor and down a short hallway. She stopped in the doorway of a bedroom, and as Sam looked over her head, his breath left him at the sight of his own body on the bed, Dean checking him over. "You're not dead... only comatose." She laughed humorlessly to herself. "I'm not so lucky."

Sam frowned, turning his attention back to her. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled. "My name is Prue."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Te Gusta? 3 I promise the next chapter will be a little lighter, in fact I've got some really funny bits in mind. **


	3. Thick

**A/N: Screw EggHams. I know I should be studying, but my first exam is drama... so I'm pretty much set XD Plus, there is a shit ton of drama at home right now, and I need the escape. **

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The clearing in the forest looked a lot different in the day. It was almost pleasant, with it's lush greenery, and tall trees. But Bobby wanted to hightail it out of there ASAP, because he knew what had happened there just hours ago. Sam's blood still stained the grass and splashed onto a tree trunk nearby, a silohette of his body just pressed into the earth. Bobby frowned. It wasn't like this place was going to scar him for life, and he'd have constant nightmares, and all of that mushy bull. It was just still all too fresh. It only irked him, pissed him off more than anything. Esepcially knowing greg had gotten away.

Behind him, Bobby heard the rustling of fabric, and turned around to see Castiel still standing where they had landed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Bobby gave him a questioning look. Cas simply waved him off. "If you can handle yourself from here, I have important matters to look into." He said.

Bobby turned back to the clearing. "Whatever, I-" The fluttering of wings inturrupted him midsentence. "Idjit." He muttered. Quickly locating the direction which they had entered the clearing the first time, Bobby began walking towards it, only to stop when a glint of light caught his eye. Lying in the grass a few feet away was the gun Greg used to shoot Sam. But that wasn't the only thing he noticed. As he knelt down beside it, and wiped his finger tips over the hilt, a yellow powder stuck to his skin.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Sonovabitch." Dean growled when Bobby set the gun down on the kitchen counter. The old man had walked into the house, ignoring any greeting and went straight to the kitchen, silently telling everyone to follow. When the Halliwells and Dean had crowded around, the Winchester had barely had time to ask what was going on before Bobby slapped the pistol onto the marble surface. The yellow substance on the metalic surface struck a cord in his mind. He didn't know whether to be relieved or even more pissed. Relieved that there was one less person one the list of those who have tried to kill Sammy for being a so called 'monster', or pissed that a demon was up their asses again.

"What is it?" Pheobe asked, examining it closer, though she didn't touch it.

"Sulfur." Dean replied. "Demons leave traces of it behind where ever the little bastards go."

"Meaning who ever shot Sam was possesed." Paige finished.

"Shit..." Dean rubbed his hand over his face. "But why would a demon go through all the trouble of making us believe it tried to kill Sam because it called him a monster? Why not just gank us right away?"

"I don't know. But it gets worse." Bobby grunted as he picked up the gun and unloaded the clip. He took a bullet out, and upon close inspection, Dean could see that this one was cracked, probably a fluke, but a dark, thick liquid was leaking through.

Dean's breath hitched in his throat. "Is this..."

"I don't think it's poison." Bobby finished. "Look at it."

Confusion taking over his face, Dean examined the liquid. He dabbed his finger in it, feeling how thick and sticky it was, before lifting it under his nose. He turned his head away sharply at the acrid, sick smell. "Ecktoplasm?" He gagged.

Bobby nodded. "Dean, this whole thing was staged. Something is after your brother."

Dean dropped the bullet with a clatter onto the counter. "Then I'll kill it before it even gets close." He growled.

"Don't be an idjit about this, boy. We have to lay low until we find out what we're dealing with." Bobby said firmly, starring down the Winchester. "If we go in all guns-a-blazin', we'll be toast, and it'll get Sam. We have to do whatever it takes to through them off our tracks. I'll head back to the wreck yard, try to make it seem like you two came back with me. In the meantime, you stay here, take care of your brother and lay low. We'll stay in contact."

"But Bobby-"

"Quit your belly achin' and do what I tell you for once." Bobby rolled his eyes as he began walking toward the door. Before leaving, he turned back to address the Halliwells. "Sorry to be asking so much, and thank you for taking care of those boys. Lord knows it'll take all four of you to keep them in line."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"So, you're their sister?" Sam asked conversationally as he sat in the attic, almost relaxed by the dim, golden light cascading from the stained glass window into the dust fill air.

Prue nodded from her place leaning back on the wall. "Mhm. I was killed a couple years ago."

"Have you been able to tell them you're here?" He asked with a curious tilt.

Prue almost seemed to pout. "No, unfortunately. I tried non stop after I died, but I'm no longer connected to this world. See." She pushed herself off the wall, walking toward the oversized book on a pedestal in the middle of the room. She attempted opening it, but though her hands touched it, she couldn't physically open it, like it weighed 400 pounds.

Sam nodded. "So, if you can't contact them, why you haven't moved on?"

Prue laughed lightly. "Death isn't as limited as people think. I moved on the moment I died. I exist primarily on the other side. I only come down here, to... visit I guess is the best way to put it."

Sam fell silent, suddenly not wanting to talk about the other side, or death. His eyes dropped the the grains on the wooden floor boards, travelling along the rivets and cracks, as if they would lead him somewhere; hopefully some answers. Prue seemed to notice this, and sat down beside him, not saying a word. Sam sighed, silently thanking her for her comfortable silence. "I need to return to my body..." He whispered. "But, I've tried. It's like there's something keeping me from it, but at the same time, there are no reapers trying to get me to leave. I'm stuck."

"Sam..." Prue pursed her lips, "You might not-"

"Don't. Don't say that." He snapped. "I have to go back. I can't leave my brother."

Prue sighed. "Then we'll figure something out."

Sam smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Phoebe sat at the kitchen counter, her chin resting in one hand, the other drumming her fingers on the surface. Paige was picking something up at work, Piper was getting groceries, Leo was out doing whitelighter things, and Dean was upstairs with his comatose brother. That left her with nothing to do, sitting at home, bored as hell. Her eyes fell upon the bullet on the kitchen counter. Dean had put the gun in the back of his car, where she had discovered an entire arsenal, for safe keeping, but left the bullet so that Castiel could take a look at it later. Glancing around to make sure no one was around, as if she were stealing an extra cookie before dinner, she reached out to pick it up. Her breath was sucked from her lungs the moment she came in contact with the cool metal.

_Leo struggled in vain against the shackles that bound his hands to the stone wall, above his head. His skin was pale, dark circles forming under his eyes. He looked completely exhausted, but he kept fighting against the metal. Castiel was chained next to him, trench coat covered in mud and grim. He did not struggle, nor did he show any signs of giving in. He stared up at a black figure, whose back was to the angels, his eyes burning in hatred and the promise of pain for it. _

"_Sammy, sammy, sammy, why do you fight it?" The figure asked. Phoebe's eyes shot away from the shackled men, landing on young Sam, who was also bound to the stone wall, but standing, his arms chained and outward on each side of his body, leaving his chest exposed. He glared defiantly at the man shrouded in darkness before him, the light from the ring of fire surrounding him dancing on his skin. "It seems you have learned nothing of your power during your unfortunate time as a spirit. You have all of the power of heaven. I've given it all to you, and still you fight it."_

"_It was never meant for me." Sam growled. _

"_Oh? I suppose that is true. But why not simply give in to what I have in store for you? Dear, dear, Samuel, if you let me take you by the hand, I can give you anything you ask. Perhaps a simple, apple-pie life, with your beloved Jessica, and a job as a lawyer. Your mother and father living down the road, happy and healthy. Your brother visiting on the weekends with Ben and Lisa in tow. Think of the white picket fences, and your perfect little family." The man stepped closer, stepping through the fire with ease, grabbed Sam's chin to force his eyes to fall into his black voids. "I think it's rather selfish of you to deny them this." _

"_Go to hell." Sam spat. _

_The man grinned. "That's not any way to thank me." He punched Sam hard on his jaw, his head whipping to the side by the force, not having enough will to move it, and let it drop. The man walked out of the fire leisurely, picking up a short, silver sword off an old table. He moved toward captives, but suddenly stopped in mid step. He paused, before slowly turning toward where Phoebe watched, as just a phantom of the past. He shouldn't have been able to see her... "Phoebe darling, it's not polite to peek at your presents." He smirked sickly before spinning around the stabbing Castiel, a bright light erupting from his body, along with a piercing scream._

Phoebe pulled away from the bullet as if it had burned her, gasping to catch her breath. Of all the visions she ever had, that was probably the most eery. She sat stock still, trying gather her thoughts, when out of the corner of her eye, something moved. She spun around, catching the flickering image of Sam, standing in front of her with wide, confused eyes. A blur stood beside him, but it was too unclear to make out. Just as soon as the image appeared, it blinked out of existence, leaving Phoebe wondering if it had ever truly been there.

The faint sounds of struggle and cursing, muffled by the ceiling above her startled her out of her thoughts. Jumping out of the chair, she dashed up the stairwell and down the hall, throwing the door to the guest room open. The first thing she noticed was the Dean was on the floor, looking royally pissed. The chair he had been sitting on was tipped over, concluding that he had fallen out of it. The second thing she noticed, though he stood right in front of her, was the Castiel had returned, looking worn out and tired.

"Damn it Cas, how about a little warning?" Dean mumbled as he picked himself up off the ground.

Castiel ignored him completely. "Where is Leo?" He asked.

"Um, out, I don't know." Phoebe shrugged. "Why?"

The angel seemed to deliberate whether to answer or not for a moment. "Heaven is being drained."


	4. Sonova

**A/N: Freedom at last, school is out! Unbelievably happy to be done sophomore year, now I can focus on writing and wasting my life away. So, expect to see a bit of Smartass!Dean in this chapter, and a tad more focus on the Halliwells. I know I'm being a little unfair to the amount of work I put into the SPN scenes compared to the charmed ones, but like I said, I know more about SPN so it's only natural.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

With the Halliwells plus Winchester gathered in the sitting room, Castiel took in their expressions. Paige had returned home just a few minutes after he had arrived, and had only gotten the breif, one sentence explanation, before Phoebe called Leo and Piper. When they had gotten the call, Leo had orb them home, only to find that when they arrived, it left him completely exhausted. So there they sat, Paige's full lips set into a slight pout, Pheobe's eyes avoiding making contact with anything but the floor (Castiel assumed she knew something about what was happening), Piper waiting for answers, Leo remaining calm, and Dean just looking pissed off.

"Come on Cas, whatever you have to say, say it." The hunter growled.

Castiel nodded in acknowledgement, focusing his attention on the entire group. "I returned to heaven recently for a report on Raphael's movements, and found that all of the host of heaven has felt a decrease in their power. It started with things like healing and vanquishing demons, and is now to the point where transportation is becoming a strain. I fear it won't be long before the host is completely drained."

Dean paused, waiting for Castiel to continue. "Well, who's doing it?" He asked.

Castiel sighed in frustration. "If I knew that, obviously this wouldn't be a problem."

"Alright, so this person drains heaven. Then what? What will they do with all that power?" Paige asked.

Phoebe's head suddenly shot up from it's place resting in his hand. Her eyes appeared distant, drawing attention from the occupants of the room. "Oh god..." She muttered. "This is what my vision was about."

"Phoebe, what are you talking about? What do you know?" Piper frowned.

"Just before Castiel came, I had a vision when I touched the bullet that hit Sam. There was a man in black robe, he had Castiel, Leo and Sam chained up." Said angels frowned, "He said something about giving Sam all of the power of heaven, but Sam was fighting it." Phoebe explained, her voice slightly shakey.

"Oh, this is just freaking perfect." Dean groaned.

"It makes sense when you think about it Dean." Castiel stated. "The bloodline you and Sam hold is powerful. Sam played host to Lucifer, this robed man must realize he is capable of holding great power."

Dean grunted as he stood from his chair. "Well, we'll just have to keep on lookout for any black-robed-bastards. No one is touchin' Sammy."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Sam and Prue watched from the entry way to the sitting room as their friends and family discused the recent turn of events. Sam's eyes were set wide into what Dean had always called his "kicked puppy face", as what he had heard sunk it. Everything made sense now; why he was shot with an ektoplasm filled bullet so he couldn't wake up. Whoever this was obviously didn't want his soul in his body when they transferred the power of heaven into him.

Dean hurried out of the room, no doubt on his way back upstairs. On instinct, Sam reached out to stop him, but his brother just walked right through him, pausing on the other side to roll his shoulders and scratch the back of his neck; no doubt the affect of walking through a spirit. Sam watched him jog up the stairs, his eyes not leaving even after Dean was out of sight.

"What did he mean by you playing host to Lucifer?" Prue asked suddenly, shaking him from his dazed.

"I'll, uh, explain later. Right now, we have to find some way of telling them that my body is hollow and waiting to be stuff with angel juice." He said urgently, pausing and shaking his head when he realized he sounded like Dean.

Prue shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I don't know how..."

"Well there has to be something!" Sam shouted, sweeping his arms in a wide arch, only to accidentally hit a vase on the table nearby. Cursing under his breath, he lashed out and caught it before it could hit the floor, setting it back on the table before anyone noticed. When he straightened himself up, he was met with Prue staring at him incredulously. He tilted his head in confusion before really realizing what he had just done.

"Come with me, I have an idea." Prue took him by the hand and half dragged him up the stairs, leading him up to the attic. Running straight through the locked door, Prue dropped his hand and began looking around the room in a hurry. Her eyes settled on an old wooden box. She turned around to face the incredibly confused Sam. "Start making noise."

"What?"

"Just do it." Prue ordered as she passed him and walked through the door again. She stood at the top of the stairs, watching as Piper walked by. A loud banging noise, no doubt from Sam stomping on the floor, caused her little sister to paused, back tracking to look up at the attic door. Prue smiled as Piper began walking up the steps to see what the noise was, her approuch careful and ready for danger. The deceased Halliwell walked back into the room, where Sam continued to bang on the floor. The door nob slowly turned, before being completely thrown open. "Stop." Prue whispered, although there really was no need. Piper glancing around the room, her face steady as she searched out any threat. But there appeared to be none, so her posture relaxed.

Prue looked up at Sam. "Knock that box over." She commanded, pointing at the wooden box she had found earlier. Catching onto her game, Sam quickly shoved the box off the shelf it had been sitting on, dust flyingfrom being idle for too long.

Piper had just been about to turn away, but nearly jumped out of her skin when the box was knocked over. She scanned the room again, once again finding no danger. She tiptoed her way across the room, leaning over to examine the box.

"Everything alright?" Phoebe suddenly asked from the doorway, giving Piper another near heart attack.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" Piper snapped.

"Sorry, sorry." Phoebe raised her hands his surrender before joined her sister on the other side of the room. "What's up?"

"I don't know." Piper answered truthfully. "There was a loud banging noise, and when I came up here, it stopped. Then this thing fell over out of no where." Phoebe picked up the box, reading the top. Her face light up in surprise for a moment, before her eyes traveled across the room. "Pheoebe?"

"I'm going to need this." Phoebe said simply before rushing out of the attic.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Dean could almost hear Bobby poor himself another glass of whiskey. The soft clink of glass on glass was barely audible over Dean's lesser quality cell phone, but he knew it was there, practically on instinct. Next he would take a hard swing of the burning liqud, set it down, and shift in his chair, leaning further back. A heavy sigh and the stroke of a beard. He could almost see it. "So someone's pulled the plug upstairs." He huffed.

"Yeah. Looks like we're not getting any divine help on this one." Dean answered. "Do you know anything that could pull this off?"

"Honestly? Not a clue. But I'll dig deeper into this, see what I can find." Bobby paused, and Dean closed his eyes, seeing him take another, but gentler swing of alcohol. "So, how's your brother?"

Dean hesitated. "Not great." He shook his head at hearing his own voice break, so subtly that only someone close to him could even hear it. His eyes fell upon the still form of his baby brother, his face a complete blank, shed into just a pair of sweat pants. The bandage Dean had wrapped around his abdomen peaked out from under the blanket, bright white contrast against his toned skin. Despite his peaceful appearance a light sheen of sweat glistened on his face. Dean, who had been sitting in a chair pulled right up to the bed, reached out and placed his palm on Sam's forehead, wincing and the feverish temperature. "Sammy still hasn't waken up... I'm starting to think maybe we should have just taken him to a hospital after all." He sighed.

"Dean, a hospital wouldn't have been able to save him in time." Bobby pointed out grimly.

The eldest Winchester rubbed his hand over his face in a futile attempt to relieve his stress. "Probably." He muttered. "Alright, thanks Bobby, I'll call if anything changes." The phone snapped shut, the loudest sound in the entire house. Glancing back over at the comatose young man, Dean sighed, sinking deeper into his chair. "Come on, Sammy."

There was a light knock and the door, to which Dean muttered a "Come in", not bothering to get up. The door creaked open slowly and hesitantly at first as Phoebe poked her head in, then swung open. She sauntered in, glancing at Sam before her eyes rested on what she carried. In one hand she held a basket filled to the brim with candles, a deep indigo blanket and Amethyst stone sitting on top, and in the other, Dean scoffed as he saw it, a ouija board. Seeing Dean's reaction, Phoebe grinned knowingly and sat the large chunk of Amethyst on the nightstand by Sam's head. When Dean raised an eyebrow at her, she shrugged and answered his unspoken question. "Amethyst has healing energy. If it can help even a little, it's worth a shot, right?"

Dean laughed humorlessly. "At this point, I'll give even that New Age-y crap a go."

"Don't knock it till you try it." She winked as she began taking everything else out of her basket.

"Phoebe, what are you doing now?" He asked. Over the past few days, he had grown a little more comfortable around the Halliwells, settling with the fact that they were in fact, 'good witches'; a fact he had learned when Piper saved his as from dropping a glass with her freezy-power-thing.

"We're going to contact Sam." She said matter of factly as she took out the blanket.

Dean leaned forward to shove his brother's shoulder and call loudly, "Earth to Sammy, come in." Turning back to Phoebe, he shrugged. "I think he's out of range."

"Smartass." The witch muttered under her breath, as she went about lighting the candles and placing them around the room. "Look, I have a really strong feeling that Sam's spirit is lingering outside his body and-"

"Your witch senses are tingling?" Dean interrupted with a smirk.

Phoebe rolled her eyes, dropping the ouija box on the blanket. "Alright, fine, maybe we can give this a try when you aren't being an ass." She huffed, stomping out of the room.

As the slammed the door behind her, Dean sunk deeper into his chair with a moan. He hadn't meant to sound like an ungrateful jackass, especially after all they'd done, but he was always really touchy when it came to Sammy. Looking over at his baby brother, he couldn't help but hope that maybe she was right after all. Glancing around the room, as if he would find hidden cameras, Dean pushed himself out of the chair and sat down on the middle of the blanket. He removed the contents from the box, examining it to figure out how it worked, before he placed it down on the blanket. He stared at it for a few moments. "What the hell am I even doing?" He asked himself as he stood up and stalked away from the board. He was being an idiot, he thought as he turned his back to it, there was no way in hell...

A light scratching, dragging noise froze him in place. His eyes widened, almost afraid to turn around. But he did, though with hesitation, an d was met with the wooden piece sliding across the letters, stopping for a few seconds everytime it passed over a certain letter.

_D.E.A.N_

"Sonovabitch!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

My "Charmed Consultant" is coming over in two days, so hopefully she'll be able to help me out on the things I'm not too sure about, and maybe even give me a few ideas. So until then, hope you enjoyed.

R&R


	5. Courage

**A/N: Happy Canada Day!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

A light scratching, dragging noise froze him in place. His eyes widened, almost afraid to turn around. But he did, though with hesitation, and was met with the wooden piece sliding across the letters, stopping for a few seconds every time it passed over a certain letter.

_D.E.A.N_

"Sonovabitch!" Dean cursed. His heart lept in his throat, pounding loudly in his ears, and before he even knew what he was doing, instincts pushed him toward Sam. Body trembling, his fingers shot toward the side of his brother's throat, searching for a pulse he feared wouldn't be there. After all, it was the first thing that came to mind when he thought of a ouija board; contacting the _dead_. But with a relieved sigh, he found Sam's heart still beating.

The tension returned as soon as it had left though, as his gaze returned to the oujia board. "Sammy? Are you..." He found himself unable to finish speaking when the board piece slid on it's own to the black ink scrawl on the wood. _"Yes."_

Hesitantly, Dean lowered himself onto the floor, the letters facing him. "Christ Sammy... it's good to hear from you man." The sound of footsteps running toward the room from down the hall diverted his attention from the board. Phoebe, Piper and Paige soon rushed in.

"What's wrong? We hear you shout." Piper panted, tired from sprinting toward the room.

"Phoebe was right." Dean answered, earning a smug grin from said witch. "Sammy's soul is detatched from his body." He turned back to the board. "Sammy, do you know what's going on." He asked, projecting his voice. The piece began to move slowly once again.

"_S.T.U.C.K."_

"He can't return to his body." Phoebe concluded, dread leaking into her voice.

"Shit." Dean cursed, running his hand through his hair. "Well, are you alright? Are there any reapers after you?" He asked nervously.

"_F.I.N.E."_

Dean exhaled, a futile attempt to push the stress from his body. "Well, don't you worry. We'll figure this out." He said strongly, knowing that if he could see Sammy, he'd look incredibly lost, though he'd try to cover it up. If Dean couldn't do anything about that, he could at least try to comfort him with the sound of his voice. It was the least he could do. He pushed himself off the ground, straightening himself before he faced the witches. "We need to update Cas, maybe he can figure something out before his powers are completely zapped. Then-"

"Dean. Look." Paige pointed down at the ouija board, where the wooden piece shook violently. The Winchester frowned.

"What Sammy?" He asked.

All at once, the piece stilled, before it began to slide it's way across the wooden surface once again. _"P.R.U.E."_

"Who's Prue?" Dean asked, before turning around again. His face softened slightly when he took in the expressions of the women. Paige stared down at the board looking fairly troubled, but no where near to the extent of her older sisters. Phoebe had gasped loudly, clamping her hand over her mouth. Beside her, Piper gripped the door frame, her eyes lined with tears ready to fall.

"No..." Piper whispered, mostly to herself. "She can't be here, I tried contacting her so many times after..."

"What's going on?" Dean frowned, muscles tensing.

"Prue was our older sister." Paige answered. "I never met her, but..."

"She was killed." Phoebe finished. "A couple years ago."

"Oh... I'm sorry." He consoled.

"It's alright." Piper said as her rigid body relaxed and she released her iron grip on the door frame. "Apparently she isn't really gone anyway." She smiled softly, staring into the empty air of the guest room.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Sam smiled as he watched his brother and the Halliwell sisters leave the room, no doubt to try to help him. A surge of hope and exhilaration filled his chest, forcing a light laugh from his lips. He looked back at Prue, who leaned against the dresser, staring fondly after her little sister with a beaming smile on her face. Her eyes flickered back to Sam, kneeling on the floor,as she reached up to wipe away a tear before it fell.

Sam grinned back at her. The idea had come out of the blue just as Dean was about to get up. He had looked back at Prue, who wasn't even paying attention to him, and noticed that lonely look in her eyes when she gazed at Piper, Phoebe and Paige. It was the least he could do to catch their attention, and tell them she was hear, after all Prue had done for him.

"Thanks Sam." She smiled after a long, comfortable silence.

"No problem." He returned the smile eagerly.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Don't do this." Paige groaned as she turned the key in the ignition of her car once again. Her hope rose with the promising sound of the engine start up, and fell with the sputtering and eventual silence. "Ugh!" She shouted, resisting the urge to punch the dashboard. "Come on!"

"Problem?" A voice startled her from the passenger side window. Dean leaned his head in with an amusing glint in her eyes; he so thought this was funny. Which she guessed was not entirely a bad thing, considering after talking to Sam yesterday, he had been kind of shaken. So it was he was smiling again, but still, it sucked that it was at her expense.

"Yeah, actually." She huffed as she non too gently opened her door and hoped out, slamming it shut again. "The engine decided to break down, and without my powers, I have no way to get to work."

Nodding in understanding of her frustration, Dean walked to the front of the car and popped the hood open. His eyes assessed every inch of the guts of the car, his skilled gaze picking out anything out of the ordinary. "I think I can fix this." He announced as he stood straight. "Give me an hour or two."

"Thank you so much." Paige sighed gratefully.

"Don't even mention it. I owe you anyway." He laughed. "Now, I'll go get my keys. My tools are in the Impala, so once I get them, I'll get started." Dean said as he made his way back into the house. He jogged leisurely up the stairs and into the room where Sammy still lay, his body hollow. As he grabbed his keys from the nightstand, he couldn't help but feel the familiar twinge in his chest that he got every time he looked at the kid. The ouija board still lay at the foot of the bed, untouched since last night.

Dean shook his head as he made his way out of the room. "Come on Sammy, you've been out for a day and a half. If you don't wake up soon, I'll have to start feeding you that hamburger-shake you were so excited about." At that moment, the wooden piece flew through the hair, hitting him lightly in the middle of the back. Dean whipped around, his eyes scanning the room. He frowned playfully. "Bitch."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

There was something about working under the hood of a car that was, to Dean, the best therapy. There was tinkering with the parts, the soft clang of metal on metal, the puzzles he had to sort out, and the oil streaked on his arms. It washed away his stress, giving his mind something else to focus on, something less morbid than the current turn of events.

Of course, the only part that sucked about it was when frantic voices and running feet startled him so bad that he jumped and hit his head on the hood. He cursed fouly under his breathe as he, carefully this time, moved away from the car. The Halliwell sisters flooded out of the house in a hurry, racing toward him. "What's going on?" He asked urgently.

"Paige's work building caught on fire." Piper answered quickly. "Is the car running?"

"Yeah, it should work fine now." Dean said as he shut the hood, rubbing his greasy hands on his jeans. "Are you going?"

"Yeah." Paige said breathlessly as she shoved her keys into the ignition, silently cheering when it roared to life.

"I'll come with you." Dean hopped into the back seat with Phoebe, Piper taking up the passanger seat, just as the car began to rolled down the driveway and tear off down the street.

Sam watched them leaving from the attic window, his eyes not leaving the car until it turned a corner. "I hope everyone's alright." He commented, having heard Paige relay the new from a phone call. He turned back to Prue, who stood at the other end of the attic, rubbing her shoulders as if there were a chill in the air; but she couldn't feel a thing. "Something wrong?"

"No, no." She shook him off. "I just.. have a weird feeling. Nothing to worry about."

Sam shrugged. "Okay, but if you-" His words were stolen from his tongue, just as the floor rocked visciously. He exchanged a quick glance with Prue before they both took off down the stairs, panic rising as they burst into the guest room. Sam's heart dropped. A giant, swirling orb of light hung ominously over his head, being directed by none other than a man in a black robe. The hood shielded his face but Sam could practically feel the man's heated glare as he through his hand out, sending both him and Prue crashing into the wall behind them.

The man walked toward them, slowly, menace flowing off of him in waves. "Sam Winchester. I've gone to a lot of trouble to get you here." The hood tiltedslightly, allowing them the view of his ugly grin.

"I'm sorry you've done it for nothing." He growled.

"We'll see about that." The demon spat, as he threw his arm out to his side, sending Sam into the dresser. There was no time to recover, years of training taught him. He leapt to his feat, at the same time that Prue threw her arm out, mimicking the man and sending the hooded figure flying against the window sill. Sam watched his surprise as she slowly rose to her feet, her arm still outstretched and keeping the man pinned. She faced him with a fiercy fire in her dark eyes. "Now Sam! This is your only chance to return to your body! Hurry, I can't keep him like this forever!" She nearly screamed.

Sam nodded running toward his body. He hesitated, turning back to Prue. "Thank you for everything Prue. I'll tell your sisters you're here, and that you love them." He informed her.

Prue smiled sadly. "No you won't." She raised her unoccupied hand, gently pushing Sam back into his body. A blinding light erupted all around him, smothering and suffocating him. The last thing he saw was Prue, fighting valiantly for a total stranger. Even in death, she showed true courage, something Sam hoped to learn from.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Wow, wrote that in an hour and a half. Not to shabby if you ask me.**

**Reviews are appreciated :)**


	6. Only Human

**A/N: To the people who asked for some romance... sorry, this isn't much of a romance story. I considered it breifly, but I really just wanted to focus on the storyline. That, and the age gaps between The Winchesters and the Halliwells are too big... it would be gross. Hope you'll stick around though :3**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

_Sam starred down the barrel of the gun pointed at him, stock still aside from the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His heart pounded uneasily, adrenaline racing through his veins, buzzing in his ears. A bead of sweat found it's way down his forehead, hanging on for dear life on his brow. Sure, Sam had been shot before, but those were lucky scrapes, flesh wounds. This time there was no where to run, nothing he could do, and an aim right for his vitals. It was ironic how he could handle wendigos and djins, angels and demons, but at the hands of a rogue human, he felt powerless. _

_As Dean said, "You know, with our usual playmates there's rules, there's patterns, but with people... there's just crazy."_

_Dean stood not far from him, trying to talk Greg out of it. But it was no use, Sam already knew, though he pleaded to be proved wrong. He had been forced down a dark, dark path, and many thought it made him a monster. Was he? Sam honestly didn't know anymore. He had his heart in the right place, but as the old saying said, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." So maybe this was karma's way of catching up to him. Once again, he prayed he was wrong._

_Sam shared a glance with Dean, seeing the desperation in his big brother's eyes. Dean knew as well as he did that there would be no getting out of this without making a mess. This was scary as hell, and it radiated off every inch of Dean's body, probably his own as well. He sent an apologetic glance to him, sorry for getting Dean into this as well. Sometimes, that's all it ever felt like Sam did; screw up, and Dean always had to pay for it._

_Focusing back to the present problem, Sam turned his attention back to the barrel of Greg's pistol. The barrel flickered dull light, and suddenly, Sam was on the ground, staring up at the crystal clear, starry sky above him._

_And that was it._

Invisible, cold and sharp fingers clawed around his soul, wrenching him out of the nothingness before he even knew he was there. The pain was pulsating from some point in his abdomen that he couldn't locate through the haze of his mind, and the never-ending ache all over his body. His head pounded behind his eyes, squeezed shut against the full force of the sun, blinding and suffocating. Something he couldn't and didn't care to identify was covering most of his body, trapping and tangling him in it's hold. On instinct, he kicked patheticly, only to be rewarded with paralysing pain from that same place in his abdomen. He curled into himself, crying out.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Dean shuffled into the foyer of the Halliwell manor, closing the door behind him once the sisters had entered. The scent of a bonfire clung to his skin and clothes, dissipating in the light scent of the air freshener placed on the round table by his waist.

"Thank god everyone got out." Paige sighed, hanging her coat on the rack by the door.

"Yeah..." Piper trailed off, seemingly lost in thought.

"What's up?" Phoebe asked, passing her older sister on her way to the kitchen.

Piper shrugged, following Phoebe, Paige and Dean trailing close behind."I don't know... it's just, something feels wrong. The suddenness of the whole thing. I mean, no one has any idea how the fire started. And don't they have a sprinkler system?"

"Yeah, there's a few in every room." Paige frowned. "Do you think maybe-"

Dean's head suddenly perked up, his face set into concentration. He raised a hand to silence them. "Shhh... do you hear that?" He asked. The sisters paused, eyes darting about, ears straining. A distant, very faint wimper reached their ears. Their eyes shot to Dean all at once, who's face dropped, waiting for him to confirm their suspicions. Instead, Dean booked it out of the kitchen, racing up the stairs and down the hall, stopping in Sam's doorway.

Sam whimpered again, his eyes still shut tight, as he struggled against the blankets, curling into himself when he strained his injury. Dean shot over to the bed, his hands instantly gripping his brother's shoulders, grounding him to reality. "Sam?" He called. "Come on, wake up sleeping beauty."

The warm, strong grasp on his shoulders seemed to finally bring Sam to the surface. His eyes, adjusting to the light, slowly fluttered open, blinking into focus on an unfamiliar room. Panic kicked in, sucking in a sharp gasp as he prepared to fight, before the hands on his shoulders tightened. His head fell to the side to find hazel eyes studying him. "Welcome back to the Land of the Living." Dean teased with a relieved grin. Sam open his mouth to reply, but found his throat far to dry to even croak out any noise but a low groan. His eyes locked onto the glass of water on the nightstand past Dean's body. Dean glanced back at it, seeming to understand. Grabbing the unoccupied pillows from the other side of the bed, he propped them up on the head board, before carefully helping Sam sit up, earning a wince along the way.

Once he was sure Sam wouldn't topple over, Dean grabbed the glass and held it up to Sam's mouth, Sam's own hand weakly helping him guide it. He drank greedily in desperate gulps, some of the water spilling down the corners of his mouth. When he was finished, he pulled away with a replenished gasp, wiping his mouth of the extra water. "Dean..." He began, testing his voice. It was only then that he noticed three women standing in the doorway, all staring at him with varying levels of curiosity and worry.

Dean turned to the Halliwells with a beaming grin, relief that his brother was alright written all over his face. "Ladies, meet Sammy." Sam tilted his head in confusion at Dean, turning back to the women at the door. And when he turned his gaze on them, all three sisters nearly _melted_; Dean hadn't been kidding about his lost puppy eyes.

"We'll let you guys talk. Call us if you need anything." Piper smiled, ushering her sisters down the stairs.

"Dean... what happened?" Sam asked, his voice hoarse.

Dean frowned. "You mean you don't remember anything?"

"I-I remember being tricked by Greg. He was pointing a gun at me... did he shoot me?" Sam asked, finding his answers when he looked down at his bare chest, his abdomen wrapped tight in gauze.

Dean nodded, patting his brother's shoulder. "You scared the shit out of us. Castiel couldn't heal you, so we took you here. The Halliwells are witches; good ones." He added when he felt the muscles under his hand tense. "Paige and Piper's husband Leo," He pointed to said witches, "are whitelighters, kinda like angels I guess. They only just managed to save you. I swear, if you ever do that again, I'll... kick your ass or something."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's half hearted threat. "So, how long was I out?"

"About a day and a half." Dean answered gravely.

"Damn." Sam groaned, trying to stretch out his tight muscles, only to hiss in pain , crunching over.

"Hey, take it easy." Dean snapped, helping him sit back again.

"Fine, fine. Now, are we going to head out?"

Dean shook his head. "Sorry, no can do. There's something going on here. Cas couldn't heal you, the whitelighters barely managed to, and it took both of them. Someone's stealing the mojo from heaven Sammy, and we think they... want to put it in you."

"What?" Sam's eyes widened. "Why me?"

"You tell me." Dean shrugged. "But until we figure everything out, the Halliwells are letting us crash here. And we will figure this out. Promise." A sudden thought came to mind. "So, you don't remember your out of body experience?" He asked.

"No..." Sam answered.

"Oh. Because you completely threw a ouija board piece at me."

"Sounds like something I would do."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

This place wasn't visited often, both a shame and a blessing. A shame, because this secluded park on the outskirts of suburban San Fransisco, was so serene and beautiful that it deserved to be shown off. A blessing, because with so few people knowing about it, it was a place of complete quiet and isolation.

It wasn't even much of a park, per say. More of a small clearing, accessible only by the running trails through the woods that surrounded it. Wild flowers grew in abundance, flowing down into the pond, it's surface still enough to reflect the sky. A bench was placed at the edge of the pond, and on it sat a man in a beige trench coat.

Leo took his time walking toward the man, admiring the natural beauty around him. Strolling toward the bench, he spoke casually. "You're looking incredibly human today, Castiel."

Castiel didn't find it as funny, only acknowledging Leo with a curt nod. Leo sighed, sitting on the bench beside his old friend. "It's all gone. I have been drained to a human state before... but I can't get use to it." Cas grumbled.

Leo nodded. "It happens to the best of us. So, any leads?"

"None." Castiel shook his head.

Leo paused. "You should probably come back and stay at the house until we figure out how to stop this. You're human, you need to rest, eat, and-"

"No." Castiel interrupted. "I can't let the Winchesters down. I have to find the man responsible for all of this." He said with determination.

"Castiel, we will do this together, all of us. You can't fix everything on your own." Leo lectured. When the angel didn't answer, Leo leaned back on the wood of the bench, staring up at the sky, which would soon be cluttered with rain clouds. "You know, it seems we've switch places. I recall you telling me the same thing when you chose me to be a whitelighter."

Castiel scoffed good naturedly. "You were a good soldier, but it wasn't my will. My orders were to help a brave soul become a whitelighter. I had no idea it was a brave, stubborn soul."

"Can't help it." Leo shrugged, before standing up. "Come on back to the manor. We'll-... do you smell that?"

A stench that could make any angel freeze suddenly drifted in on the wind. Castiel stood slowly, scanning the area for the source. "Holy Fire..." He growled.

No sooner had the words left his lips, the entire forest around them burst into flames, scattering the birds to that air. Leo and Castiel shielded themselves from the initial blast, bringing their forearms up to guard their faces. A dark, cloaked figure santured out of the tree line, the man's face hidden under the shadow of his hood. The light of the orange flames danced on the black fabric of his cloak, casting dim light on his jaw. He smiled, rotten teeth glimmering. "Boys, boys, I'd hoped to find you here." He hissed, his voice like shattered glass and nails on a chalkboard.

And there the angels stood, human and helpless.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Baaawww Cas & Leo my babies ;3; And just to clarify something, though they are human, they are angels/whitelighters, so they can't passed through Holy Fire. **

**R&R~**


	7. Two down

**A/N: I don't even know why this chapter was so hard to write. But whatever, at least I'm done.**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Her cellphone pressed firmly to her tight lips, Piper paced the kitchen, her eyes unfocused under her furrowed brow. She almost willed the phone in her hand to ring, but of all the magical things she could do, apparently that was not one of them; figures. Flipping the device open, Piper pressed speed-dial, holding the speaker to her ear as the tone teased her with it's drawn out pauses. "Come on Leo..." Finally, an electronic voice on the other end, once again, informed her that the number was unavailable. "Damn it." She snapped the phone shut, tossing it carelessly onto the counter.

"What's all the hub-ub?" Paige asked nonchalantly as she hopped onto a stool chair.

Piper pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, resisting the urge to pull at her hair instead. "I can't get a hold of Leo... by his phone or," She pointed up, "other means."

The youngest Halliwell shrugged, taking an apple from a bowl on the counter. "I'm sure it's nothing, he'd probably just busy."

The eldest shook her head. "No, he just said he was going out for a walk, and that was at two. It's almost seven now."

"That's not like him..." Paige mused.

"Exactly why I've been trying to call him."

Clicking heels brought the sisters' attention to Phoebe making her way down the stairs, soon joining them in the kitchen. "Hey, where did Dean go again?" She asked as she searched her purse for her lipstick.

Piper shrugged. "He went out to pick up a few things, I asked him if he could run an errand for me while he was out. He shouldn't be much longer. Why?"

Pausing a moment to paint her lips, Phoebe answered. "Oh nothing, Sam just woke up and asked. I just told him he was out. He was so disoriented, it was adorable. Can we keep him?" She asked with a fake pout.

"Sorry Pheebs, no more strays." Piper laughed.

"You're mean." Phoebe teased as she dropped her lipstick back into her bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder. "Well, ta ta loves." She said with an air kiss as she began her way out the door.

"And where are you headed this evening?" Paige spun around in he chair.

Turning around dramatically, Pheobe smirked. "I have a date." She winked.

"Oh! Is it that hot Australian guy?" Paige asked with half a mouthful of apple.

"Indeed it is. Don't wait up for me."

"Be careful!" Piper called out, only to have it fall on deaf ears as the front door slammed shut. Piper rolled her eyes, just as a timer went off beside her. "Okay, Sam's soup is cool enough to eat, I'm going to bring it up to him. There's extra in the pot of you want some." She said as she took a tray of food off the counter behind her and began walking toward the staircase.

Entering the guest bedroom, Piper found Sam laying back on the pillows still propped up on the head board, his hand over his face set in a grimace as he gripped the sheets in his other hand. The tension on his form gave away to the fact that he was in a lot of pain. He didn't notice Piper in the room until she spoke up. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

Recovering from his initial jump at the surprise presence, he laughed lightly as if to blow it off. "I'll live."

"Well, I brought up some soup if you're up for it."

Sam flashed her a brilliant grin. "Thank you." He said as he began to shift himself into a sitting position, only to find himself stuck without disrupting his wound. "Uh..." He frowned, attempting to continue pushing himself up anyway, only to hiss in pain. Without a word, Piper helped him sit comfortably against the headboard, then placed the tray on his lap. "Thanks. You really shouldn't have." He said, referring to the food in front of him.

"You haven't eaten in a day and a half. Don't even think about it." Piper smiled, taking up Dean's usual seat beside the bed. Sam nodded to her with a smile before digging in, knowing fully well how long it had been since he'd eaten.

After an incredibly long silence, though understandable since Sam was eating, Piper voiced a question that had been plaguing her ever since the boy ten years her junior woke up. "So... you don't remember anything?"

It was a vague question, but Sam knew what he was referring to. "Nothing." As soon as the words faded fro his lips, Sam caught a flicker of disapointment across Piper's face. "Why?" He asked gently.

Piper didn't speak, and after a whie, Sam figured she wasn't going to. "When you were... out of body. Dean tried a ouija board to communicate with you."

"Yeah, I did the same when he was put into a coma after a car crash a few years ago." Sam nodded.

"Well, it worked, and just when you told us what was happening, you got our attention again. You spelled out a name. Prue." She said the name is a whisper. "She was my-"

"Sister?" Sam asked suddenly, a look of confusion .

Piper's mouth fell open, staring at Sam in mild shock and awe, before the door suddenly swung open, revealing a beaming Dean Winchester holding a plastic grocery bag. He sauntered into the room, plopping himself down on the other end of the bed. "Alright Sammy, I've got the Winchester Family "Get your ass out of bed" Kit. Oh, and I left your stuff in the kitchen Piper." He added as a side note.

"Thanks. And what would this kit be?" Piper asked with an amused raise of one brow.

"Tylenol, cotten balls, whiskey, gauze, and a cross word puzzle." Dean grinned, tossing the small paper back book to Sam, who caught it with ease. "Now come on, bandage off, gotta clean that hole."

Sam groaned, sinking back into the pillows. "Dean..."

"Aw come on Sammy, don't tell me you're bashful." His brother smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes "Fine, whatever." He began to gently pull off the edges of his bandages, wincing as they tugged at his skin. Unwinding it closer and closer to the actual wound, he braced himself for the painful peeling of scab from fabric; but it never came. Looking down, Sam was surprised to say the least that the wound was almost healed, though there was still a good ways to go before it was gone. The edges were begining to mend together, the skin white and pink as a result of new skin. The original bullet hole was less gruesome than it had been just hours ago.

"What the hell." Dean muttered getting a closer look. "Did Leo or Paige..."

Piper shook her head. "Paige's powers haven't returned yet, and I haven't seen Leo in hours."

Dean's lips formed a straight line as he thought over what was happening. "I'll call Cas. Something weird is going on here."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It was nearly three hours later that Sam finally was able to get himself out of bed, his sore limb protesting the movement. Paige had gotten him the emergency crutch from the hall closet to help him walk without re-opening his healing wound. He carefully manuevered his way down the stairs with a little help from the witch, finding Piper and Dean waiting in the living room. Various magical items scattered themselves around the room. It was 9:45.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, noticing the troubled look on his face.

"We haven't been able to contact Leo or Castiel. So we're going to summon them back here, in case something happened." Dean informed him, handing Sam a piece of paper with sigils (matching the ones of the table cloth), Latin incantations, and various ingredients scrawled across. "I got this from an e-mail Bobby sent. It should bring both of them back here." He pointed to the latin spell. "Would you do the honours?" Dean asked, knowing Sam was always better with Latin.

The youngest Winchester nodded, clearing his throat. "Hoc ego voco angelus Castiel circuli ubicumque fuerit. Arcesseret, huic albo levius Leo I circuli, ubicumque fuerit. Invoco potestatesattuleris, totum et vera, ut sunt, sic fiat semper."

In one single burst, a light shot out of the circle, nearly blinding them to the point they had to shield their eyes. For a split second, Dean feared that they had summoned Castiel out of his vessel. He was about to warn everyone not to look, when the light disappeared with a gust of wind. Recovering for a moment, Dean looked back at the table, his heart leaping into his throat, suffocating him. He had hoped of course that Castiel and Leo would show up fine and dandy, but know that the chances were slim. He did not expect the table, in the centre of the sigil, lay a long, silver sword, carved with Enochian magic. The fine metal was stained and splattered with crimson blood, dripping down and leaking onto the table.

Sam walked forward, picking up the sword by the handle. His eyes locked with Dean's, both understanding the graveness of this situation. Cas was hurt, if not... the sword slipped from Sam's weakened grip, and on instinct, he attempted to grab it, his hand wrapping around the blade. He hissed, as blood from his palm mixed with the angel's blood. Immediatly he knew, something was wrong.

"Sam, you're hand..." Paige whispered, as Sam held the sword properly and lifted it from his injured palm. Streams of pure light emerged from the cut, casting a light glow into the room. Sam quickly closed his hand, looking back up at Dean with the helpless stare he hadn't seen since the night he was shot.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**I don't even care how short this is. I'm just happy I finished _something_. Perhaps more review will motivate me?**

**Seems legit.**


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